


Like Father, Like Son

by Noshpah



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Family, Comfort/Angst, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Confessions, Drama, Emotional Baggage, Emotions, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Happy Ending, Keanu Reeves is your dad, Light Angst, Mild Language, Parenthood, Purely Familial, Reader-Insert, Self-Indulgent, Single Father, Teen Angst, Trans Male Character, Transgender, non romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23360626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noshpah/pseuds/Noshpah
Summary: Not quite right, that's all you thought.  The timing was never quite right.  Between living life as an already stressed out, hormonal teenager, you had being trans to go on top of it all.  Only, there was one small problem, you weren't even out to your dad.  But you were determined to change that...someday at least.
Relationships: Keanu Reeves/Reader, Keanu Reeves/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Like Father, Like Son

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, a huge shout out to my pal J (@Phiehckk) for beta reading AND editing all the nitty gritty details. They were so down for this project and that made me so happy to work on it. They really brought their a-game to this fic and helped me out tremendously. ALSO: since I'm doing this on mobile, I apologize in advance for the lack of indents (hopefully it's not too confusing :( ) if there's a way to do it on mobile please lemme know! Anyways, without further adieu, enjoy reading!

Not quite right, that's all you thought. The timing was never quite right.  
You tried telling him back when you decided to cut off your hair in a frenzy, feverish-like state one afternoon, but the words wouldn't come out. You tried telling him when you didn't want to go to homecoming; showing up in a suit would call unwanted attention, but wearing a dress would be torture. You tried telling him over dinner at Tony's because you were so tired and fed up with having to live another day like this, but you stayed quiet as you munched on your pizza. Better to make a scene after all.  
It was always the same excuse, the same questions, the same problems, the same fear. What if he doesn't understand? What if I make him upset? What if I accidentally ruin our relationship? What if he hates me?  
Some of these thoughts were outrageous, but due to the anxiety and the risks that come with coming out, all of them seemed probable in your altered state of mind. Each horrible outcome after the next. So what then? What’s a closeted teen to do?  
It was late one night, and you were up, the memo app on your phone opened to a sprawl of pages entailing the truth. You had written it weeks in advance, visiting it briefly to change a sentence or two. It was almost therapeutic in a sense, just putting everything out there. When you were finally somewhat satisfied with it, you sent the draft over to some of your friends. Two of which were online, and the other one being your childhood companion from school.

\- hell yeah, looks good  
you thinking of sending this to him?  
\- maybe, i still dunno  
kinda nervous not gonna lie

-it's so good!!!!!! he's gonna love itttttttt  
-idk, i'm still not rlly sure tho  
-bro, your dad is one of the nicest people i know, i'm sure he'll respond well  
and if not you can always crash at my place  
-aw thanks 💖  
I don't think it'll come to that, but thanks for offering  
-💖💛💚💙💜

-mmMM YEAH HE BETTER FRAME IT UP AND HANG IT IN YOUR HOUSEEE  
-i don't even know if and when i’m gonna tell him  
-just tape it to his door before you leave for summer camp that's what i did  
If he doesn't accept you i’ll be your new supportive parent from now on :)

And thus, with those uplifting words from your friends, and after scouring the internet for every coming out as trans video you could find, you decided: tomorrow would be the day. The day to tell him everything. You spent all night tossing and turning over the possibilities before exhausting your mind to sleep.  
~  
You awoke the next morning with butterflies flooding your system. Tingles were sent throughout your spine as you got up and did your business, tossing on a robe and making your way downstairs. As always, the sight in the mirror reminded you of the disconnect between your mind and body. You wondered if you would ever feel content enough in it. The faint scent of freshly made waffles tore you away from your reflection as you waltzed downward, meeting a familiar sight.  
"Morning princess," your dad greeted, as you reached the entranceway. It was his favorite nickname to use, and coincidentally, the one that made you the most dysphoric. Great.  
"Hey," you muttered, reaching into the fridge to grab some OJ. Your dad adorned a simple white tee with baby blue, pin-stripe pajama pants, the kind that dragged all the way to the floor, despite him being 6” tall or so. His chin-length hair disheveled in all its full glory. You silently chewed your lip. You still had no idea of the specifics of it all, but you at least had a general plan to put into action. You made your way over to the cabinet, standing on your tippy-toes, stretching for a glass that was just out of your reach.  
You heard your father chuckle to himself as he headed over, his height easily towering over yours.  
"Here you go sweetie."  
You meant to say thanks, but found your voice fell short (haha, get it?) and hurried over to pour yourself a cup. You just couldn't look at him without your body kicking into overdrive, nerves firing at every second. After a mostly silent breakfast, and after feeding your dog, Gatsby; you retreated back into the safety of your room. Before, you would’ve stayed a little longer, and the quietness wouldn’t be so apparent as you two would chat about anything and everything. Even the silence wouldn’t be so uncomfortable as it is now, but you found your conservations dwindling down to a mere ‘hey’ to make sure you were still somewhat alive.  
You still had no idea how this all would and could go down. At least you had the solace knowing that he wouldn't kick you out or send you to conversion therapy, but you were digging at the bottom of the barrel here. Since when did a parent not disowning their child become a saving grace?  
You rested your back against the wall, looming over at all the photos, posters, and other oddities spread throughout your room. Your mind wandered off to the small shoebox hidden underneath your bed frame. In it held your most prized possessions: a pride flag, pride pins, LGBTQ positive stickers, and your very own binder. You longed for them to be displayed around your room just as you proudly did with your arrangements of fairy lights.  
Something must've clicked, as you stopped sulking on your bed and made your way to the cluttered mess that was your desk, an idea incubating in your mind. You cleared out most of the junk and grabbed a stray paper that stuck out from an assorted scrap pile. You could never say it face to face, but at least handwritten was more meaningful than plain text, right?  
God, a phone call would be even worse. You brought up the letter and grabbed a ballpoint pen. Better make this “frame worthy” as your friend put it.  
~  
At first you struggled with how to write it. Try to make it fancy? Like a pen pal letter? No, better to make it more casual. But not too casual. How casual was too casual? [Ugh, why was coming out so unnecessarily hard? Why must I be born into this cis heteronormative society?!]  
Eventually you stuffed it up and just wrote. If you were unhappy with it you could always write another. You got about half-way through before a knock on the door interrupted you. [Shit, shit, hide it…]  
"Sweetie?" He called from outside. You crammed the page under the countless others.  
"Coming!" You catapulted off the chair, nearly tripping over in the process and swung open the door. The swift motion made little black dots fill your vision.  
"...yeah?" You asked, a little out of breath.  
"Was thinkin' we could go to the mall today, whad’ya say?" He smiled warmly, already swinging a pair of keys in his fingers.  
"Um," you unconsciously glanced back to your desk, then back at him, "-you can go ahead I...I don't really feel like it, y’know?" Silence followed and for a second you had visceral fear course through your veins, "-just kinda wanted to stay at home today."  
"Oh? Okay, that's fine," he ruffled your hair, "I'll be off then, just, make sure to call if you need anything, pumpkin."  
"Kay."  
You spun your head around, making out the slightest of noise coming from your father.  
“Did you say something?” you asked.  
“-Ah no, just,” he gave an awkward two-finger salute to you, “See you soon.”  
“Mm.”  
You swore you thought he said ‘love you’ before leaving.  
Once you were sure he left the premises, you continued back on your letter, deciding this was the perfect opportunity to seize. You had it all figured out: you'd finish writing it while he was gone, lay it on his bed, and he'd read it while you were out of the house. You were so proud of yourself.  
You blasted all the bops you had saved on your 'Gays Only Event' playlist. The music gave you power as you plowed through even with your aching wrist.  
~  
You carefully slid the papers in the envelope, making sure to fold it all neatly, and in order. It took a hot minute, but you had written it all, even if your handwriting wavered at the end. You sauntered over and placed it on one of his pillows, rearranging it a couple times until you were content. Your heart thumped as you did so.  
Your eyes followed the picture resting on his nightstand. It was a somewhat old photo, you had just recently started puberty during that time and you remembered how awkward you felt, hell, still felt. Puberty had not just hit you, it slammed into you and ran you over like a train but not in a good way. It was at that age where you secretly despised having a visible chest and dressed every day to hide it. Only recently did you understand why. Hopefully he would change that picture soon. Just then, you heard the jingle of some tags. It seemed your dog, Gatsby, had found you.  
"C'mon, let's go for a walk now." You said turning towards him.  
At the mention of 'walk', his tail began wagging wildly, already skipping over towards where the leashes were. The sight never ceased to make you smile. You sent your dad one quick text before leaving the house.

-gonna take gatsby for a walk so I might not be there when you get back  
-Make sure to bring a bag  
also be SAFE  
-will do

Gatsby barked with impatience as you stared at your screen.  
“I get it, we’re going now.”  
~  
The clouds overhead seemed to fit the mood to a tee. Reminded you of the inner turmoil festering inside, and the potential storm to come, how poetic. You stopped your inner monologue and tried to focus on steadying yourself first. Your cocker spaniel-beagle mix trailed around the corner.  
When you would come back, he would find the envelope...and read it...and know, finally. Your chest felt light all of a sudden. The thought filled you with both excitement and dread. You seriously considered your friend's offer if things went sour. He...wouldn’t do that, right? Kick you out? Of course not, he was a kind soul but...you heard all the horror stories before: you're my child, you can't change who you are, you're sick, you're crazy, you can't change biology. While online you berated those arguments to your fullest extent, real life was a whole other story. Your hands clammed up, the nylon fabric you held slightly giving way.  
Maybe you made a mistake. Maybe it just wasn't time. Yeah. You've waited this long, what's another year or so? Things would be easier when you were out of the house. Your friend’s encouragement echoed faintly in the back, overshadowed by the raging fear that roared from within. You tugged on Gatsby's leash to bring him along. If you left now you could still make it before your dad came back. Hopefully.  
You did so again, and finally he stopped thinking the neighbor's bush was the most interesting thing in the world.  
"C'mon Gatsby, gotta go home now!"  
The white and hazel colored canine stared at you before deciding to share your enthusiasm.  
You continued your walk, this time at a much brisker pace. You probably should've looped back, crap. Was it too late now? What if he was already home? What if he already read your letter? Why was the air so damn cold all of a sudden? What if- Hm? You felt something hit your head. You touched it, and soon that same sensation came cascading over you, wait....rain.  
"Perfect, let's go!" You both came rushing to the house in a frenzy. You must've looked ridiculous running around like maniacs, but you didn't care. Right now you could only focus on your racing heart and the air thrashing within your lungs. The rain was picking up fast.  
Your shoes’ outer soles gave way against the slippery sidewalk and you nearly went crashing down, but saved yourself at the last second. Gatsby yipped at the sudden motion. No, you had not fallen, but that was damn near terrifying. You had to brush it off and keep on going, you prayed that he wasn't there yet.  
~  
You stormed through the front door, both a sopping, wet mess, leaving puddles everywhere you stepped.  
"Ugh," you grasped at your now soaking clothes. Gatsby tried his best to dry himself with the carpet before scurrying away to his crate, which was also conveniently placed in your dad's room. You followed suit.  
Now the shirt clung to you in all the wrong, dysphoric-inducing ways. You huffed. Disappointing, but you had a mission to fulfill. You’d clean up the mess you both left in the living room later. What stopped you in your tracks was your pets’ eagerness as he ran....wait. That meant-  
"Hey boy!" You heard your dad's voice from down the hall, "Seems you got caught up in the rain, huh?" He fondly scritched Gatsby behind his ears, your dog oblivious to the doom that had stricken your heart.  
You concluded that the universe had to have it out for you. It just had to. It was all perfectly executed like some telenovela. As you thought that, your father came into view, a playful smile on his face.  
"You too huh?"  
You would've laughed along under any other circumstances but instead said nothing, brushing past him to head to your room. With any luck, you'd shut yourself in and take a nap, maybe listen to your 'Great Depression' mix to calm you down. Phone a friend perhaps. Try anything you could to try and deal with the current emotions swelling in your system.  
Your father called out, "Hey,"  
"What?" You instinctively replied. It came out ruder than intended, but at this point it was the least of your troubles.  
He seemed taken aback at first, but probably stopped himself from saying anything about it. "-I got you something from the mall."  
Now you felt horrible for snapping at him. Of course he would’ve gotten something for you, it was in his innate nature to buy you little souvenirs or anything that caught his eye. You were his only child after all. He held out the white shopping bag in his hands, you took it with tentative hands. You brought the fabric out from it’s plastic dwelling. A white shirt, oh, but just not any white shirt, it was a girly bell-sleeved blouse with flowers on it. Just what you needed.  
"I saw it at one of the stores and I thought you'd like it," he scanned your features with your tight mouth and unamused eyes, it didn’t take him being your dad to see that you weren’t overflowing with joy, "-it was a 2-in-1 sale, comes with a receipt!"  
Not even his signature dad jokes could shake your annoyance off. No, not at him, at the world, about the whole situation, about everything.  
"...thanks," you mumbled, taking the bag away, "-I'm gonna be in my room.” Before you had the chance to walk off, he stopped you again, eyebrows knitting together.  
He coughed, "You okay sweetie?"  
"Hm?" [What the hell was happening?]  
"It's just that-you've been...distant lately," his voice went soft, "Everything okay?"  
Distant? Maybe you have been a little withdrawn towards him...but it was only natural, you were a teen after all...were you doing it on purpose to try and avoid him finding out?  
Either way, he asked if you were okay and the answer was: no. Everything was most definitely not okay. You've been in the closet for several years and were currently experiencing a coming-out-crisis for the ages. Not to mention you couldn't even talk about the endless struggles you've been facing with him. Also, that so many people seemed to deem your people as disgusting freaks wasn't exactly helping. So no, everything was most definitely not okay.  
"I’m fine, just...don’t wanna talk about it right now," You couldn't have chosen a worse response, but hey, at least it was the truth this time.  
"You sure princess?" That hurt like a whole punch to the gut. You twitched at the use of the nickname.  
"-I'm sure dad." You trudged away, dragging the bag alongside with you, as if it were a heavy ball weighing your whole body down. You wished you could sink to the floor.  
“Are you gonna eat lunch?”  
“Maybe later.”  
Once you shut and locked your bedroom door behind you, you threw the item some far off corner, hoping to forget about it. You flung yourself onto the mattress, wrapping yourself under the expansive, thick throw blanket. The locked door was the only thing separating a normal and loved teen from a disgraceful, homeless one. God, what if he was reading it right now?  
One of those days, one of those nights. The calm before the storm, the last goodbye to the Titanic, the final judgement. Similar words echoed in your head as you closed your eyes, attempting to find some comfort in shadows and loneliness. You had befriended them countless nights and sleepy afternoons like this, though with not nearly as much on the line as right now. The rain made a pleasing soundscape as your tired mind eventually wore itself out, your counsciness giving way to the descent of sleep. ~ You awoke to nothing in particular, but the growl of your stomach was too striking to ignore. Too strong to subdue. Yet you still were so exhausted...you could nap for a couple of minutes or so, right?  
Apparently not, as just laying in bed felt you were personally punishing yourself. You negotiated. Fine, just one snack and then you can go back to wallowing in despair.  
You peeked out your head through the hallway. It was evening, and you could just spot the dim kitchen light from down the hall. The house was as still as ever. Almost like it had been abandoned while you were off in dreamland. It was almost eerie, in a way. You decided not to dwell on it too much, making your way through the washed out, pale grey corridors. The large expansive windows allowed you to see the outside with ease. Water was still pouring down like there was no tomorrow, blurring the distant landscape to mere blobs of colors  
As you had suspected, the kitchen was empty.  
Which wasn't a bad thing, it gave you the opportunity to collect yourself. You didn't know what you'd do if there was another human being here you had to interact with.  
You let out a drowsy hum and went scavenging, what did you want? What did you crave? Something quick, something with flavor, something- You rummaged through the freezer.  
All out of ice cream.  
You settled instead for ramen, not the fastest, but hey, it was one of your signature comfort foods. You freed the block of noodles from its confines, placing in a pot of water and sitting it on the stove. You stared around absentmindedly as you let it cook.  
You leaned your arms against the small kitchen countertop.  
A sound echoed and you ignored it at first. You thought it was the normal creaks and groans of a house the second, and you froze in your spot at the third. You knew what it was: footsteps. Far too calculated and too solid to be your dog, and unless there was an intruder in the house (highly unlikely they would go unscathed) you knew exactly who those footsteps belonged to.  
You didn't face him when he came in, nor did you acknowledge his presence at all, you just stood by the table and blankly eyed the marble surface. Grey veins amongst a white ocean. He cleared his throat, you didn't turn around.  
"...good to see you up and runnin' again," You felt the awkwardness weigh like heavy bricks on your shoulders. The atmosphere was so thick, it felt like it was slowly suffocating you. "Beginning to think you'd sleep through the whole weekend."  
Not one of his best jokes, he was probably stalling. You couldn't face him, not like this. You were hardly able to keep standing on your own two feet.  
The rain pounded against the rooftop, against the windows, the wind wailing through the glass panes.  
He let out a sigh of sorts and you could just catch him in the reflection of the stainless steel refrigerator, silhouette filled with uncertainty and stiffness, "-I...read the letter you left me."  
Instantly your heart hammered in your chest, your body refusing to move from your position, you shut your eyes. Maybe this was all a dream, you've had many ones like this before: dad finds out, usually by accident, yet you always woke up before he could say anything. That was the most terrifying. Not the fact that he knew, but the fact that you never knew what his reaction was, it could be awful, it could be amazing, it could be mediocre. But no, not even your own mind couldn't give you the satisfaction of release. It was sickening, taunting torture.  
You heard another footstep and the only thing you did was flinch, having no clue why that was your first instinct, but executing it without question. Almost like you had practiced that move countless times before. Silence proceeded and he let in another breath, it was more airy, almost ragged.  
"-hey, sweet-it's okay. I'm not mad, I'm not gonna hurt you." His tone was incredibly gentle now and though you had your eyes shut you could practically read his expression now; eyes soft and caring, the tight lip of his mouth, the way he would tilt his head to the side just a bit...the dad you knew, the dad you loved.  
Screw it, you opened your eyes. You noticed your vision had gone blurry for some reason...oh.  
You heard him come closer, but you didn't flinch this time, just stayed put. You gripped the counter top for your life. Wait, what did he say? Okay, so he wasn't mad. That's good. But disappointed? Sad? Disgusted? There were a million different emotions other than mad he could be feeling right now.  
He began talking again, you even had a hard time focusing on his voice, "I'm not mad, and I'm not gonna hurt you, kick you out, or anything like that-no," your hold eased up ever so slightly, "I...just want you to know...I still love you."  
Love?  
The simmer of the ramen came to an all time high, you barely registered it bubbling at the surface and falling off the sides. The stove top never looked so red.  
"-and I, oh shit-," your dad rushed over to your field of vision, immediately turning the dial off. You had totally forgotten about the soup. You had totally forgotten about the hunger that plagued you mere minutes ago. Adrenaline was a hell of a neurological hormone, you could say so firsthand now.  
"Here, lemme get this for you," he grabbed one of the bowls and poured the rest of the salvaged broth in. Through it all you stayed, unmoving. Stagnant. You were such a trope, c'mon, move. Do something for once.  
"-as I was saying," he continued, you could see the same expression again, "I still love you and, you're still my child, through all this."  
There was a long pause. Too long. Wait. Was that it? Was it over? Were you waking up?  
"-hey...kiddo?"  
He came into view now and you could make out the familiar shapes and colors of him. Could even smell him. He smelled of pine woods and cinnamon. A secret forest where one could roam and wander, spend nights in and never feel lost. It grounded you.  
All at once, the rush of stirring and rising tensions came to a halt. Like someone had just turned the dial on your own emotions. It wasn't a raging downpour anymore, no, just a light drizzle.  
"Dad...?" you said in more of a question than a statement. He crouched down so that he was eye-level with you.  
He could probably see your glossy eyes and flushed cheeks, "Yes, I'm here."  
"...why-" your lip quivered and shook, finally you got to a point where your throat was clear enough to speak, even your voice still shook, "-was that it? Is that all you had to say?! I've been stressing over this for years and that's all you have to say?! You're supposed to give me this grandiose speech about how much I mean to you and that despite everything you're here to support me, give me a hug, and wipe the tears as I sob uncontrollably! Then we have a perfect little movie moment as soft bedroom pop plays in the back! That's how it's supposed to be! Just like that!"  
All the air had left your body afterwards. You both were speechless for an everlasting moment. Sure, you had your fair share of tangents and rants before, but this was truly one of a kind. You were left breathless, just like earlier today when you came back from running around the whole neighborhood. It took a long while for him to say something, and you secretly dreaded your outburst would land you dangerous waters.  
He seemed to approach you in hesitation, "...I'm, sorry..."  
"-whatever, it-I'm..." you cursed your stereotypical adolescent self, feeling small and vulnerable again, "...I'm sorry too, for-"  
Before you even had the chance to finish he pulled you into a tight hug, you were engulfed in his shoulder.  
"Don't apologize," he stroked his fingers through your hair as you naturally eased into the touch, "-I love you, god, I love you so much. Don't ever apologize for being who you are, okay?"  
Your once frozen arms found themselves inching over to his body, you didn't even think about it. Your heart was still thrashing but arguably less so than before. He held you in a gentle rocking motion, oddly enough reminding you of how a parent would rock a baby to sleep.  
A few stray tears managed to escape, but it wasn't the inconsolable wails you saw in the movies. It was akin to when one goes to turn off the faucet and the last drops of water comes leaking out after, like that.  
You buried your face into the crook of his shoulder. The heat radiating off of him lulled you into a peaceful state of mind.  
You could barely make out the inaudible, "I love you" coming from him as he continued to pet your hair. At first you hoped you would be emotionally vacant should things go awry, but now? You never wanted to be so present in something before. You wanted to take in everything and never let go. Not many kids would get this, and well, you needed this. You didn’t realize before, but you needed to have this, you needed this moment. He probably needed this too.  
Eventually you had to break away, trying to get your t-shot would be pretty difficult with someone practically glued upon you.  
Surprisingly enough, it was you to pull away first, sniffling a little as you rubbed your eyes. "So...does this...I mean, you...accept me?"  
He cocked his head to the side, "I thought it was obvious by now."  
You stared up at him.  
"You want me to say it?"  
"Mm-hm," another sniffle.  
He beamed at you, and you returned the gesture, a real one. No more hiding, no more secrets, no more holding in a breath.  
"...I do accept you. All of you."  
He kissed your forehead and you felt protected. Like all the transphobia and hate in the world didn't matter and that maybe you'd be okay in the end. Maybe you could transition and be happy. Maybe.  
After a while your feelings had washed over, passing by like a few clouds. You just awkwardly shuffled your feet around. The rain hadn't left but it definitely died down since earlier. No more rain drops to fill in the silent gaps. The movies didn't prepare you for the aftermath. What was there to say now after the reassurance was done?  
Just then your dad's voice cut through. "You...wanna get a haircut?"  
"Hm?" You tried to process what he just said, and the fact that you had just come out to him, "-I mean, yeah I've been thinkin' about it for a while," you twirled a piece,"...can I?"  
"Yeah, go grab your shoes."  
"Wait, right now? Like now-now?"  
"Yeah, unless, you'd rather do it yourself like before then-"  
The memory shot through you like a bullet, "Nope, not doing that again, I'm coming," You smirked at the distant memory and the total dramatics of it. In your mind you were Mulan when she was going off to war, when in reality you were just a stressed out mess cutting your hair with craft scissors at 2am. You pulled on the biggest, comfiest hoodie you owned (the one with your favorite bands’ logo) and slipped on a pair of Vans. Surprised he didn't know you were trans sooner.  
The two of you then left the house, your excitement was apparent with each step; you couldn't stop bouncing in your seat as you strapped yourself in. Wait, was this still a dream? God, that would so suck if it was.  
"-hey dad?"  
"Yes son?"  
You gleamed at the use of the nickname, it just felt right, normal, "Thanks, for, saying you still love me and stuff...I needed to hear that."  
"Of course, I'll say it everyday if I need to kid."  
Your chest was full of this warm tingle, this is what the good life was like. As you got out of the garage, a million different thoughts flew by. Always doubtful, always second guessing. You droned them out with the radio.  
“This isn't a dream right? Like, this is really happening, right now?  
“Yes?”  
“Hm, I’m not sure I can trust you…”  
“Why not?”  
“Last time I had a dream about a friend and I said the exact same thing, then I woke up immediately after.”  
“Well, if the whole ‘life is a simulation’ thing you keep on talkin’ about is true, then I guess it is one.”  
“Touché,” you stared at the house you were about to leave, “Then I guess it’s a pretty good one.”  
~  
The rest of the ride was a mix of regular, nonsensical chatter and lip-syncing some tunes. All these fresh beats and sensational hand gestures caused an idea to incubate in your head. Now that you were out, he wouldn't be opposed to taking you to a drag show, right? Well, if you weren’t old enough to go to one, you could still watch RuPaul’s Drag Race at home unbothered now.  
You arrived at some obscure shopping corner, the place was tucked (hahah) away in the corner with cursive, neon lights overhead. Butterflies sprang in your stomach as you released the seat belt.  
“...thanks for doing this.” It was all you managed to murmur out through embarrassment and shy gratitude. He could tell you were genuine about it.  
“Hey, it was the least I could do to try and make you happy...I haven’t done a good job of doing that recently.”  
You blinked, “Whaddya’ mean?” you thought for a moment, “-no. Dad, it wasn’t-it’s not your fault, I was just worried and anxious. I just didn’t know what to say to you.”  
No words were exchanged and you bit your lip, taking a deep breath.  
“You’ve been amazing to me, as much as you could, and...I love you.”  
The pink neon lights from the shops coated the interior alongside soft shadows of blue and black. He looked over to you.  
“Love you too kiddo.”  
A smile came to your face. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> And that's that folks. I'll admit, this originally started out as just some simple self-indulgent fic sitting in my files for awhile, but after some revamping, I'm actually quite proud with how it turned out. :)  
> In case any of y'all are wondering, I modeled the house after John Wick's house from the movie, it's not super obvious but it helped to at least so I could describe parts of the home.  
> Thank you for reading, this was a bit heart-wrenching, but also healing to make. I hope y'all are doing okay during quarantine.  
> I may or may not make another installment of this, this idea is very pure and interesting to me.  
> Well, see ya when I see ya!
> 
> ~ Brynn


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